Wireless
by remonrime
Summary: Since Mission City Bumblebee has been tapping into Sam’s dreams without knowing it. Now, a couple of months after the whole Matrix fiasco, Sam’s in no condition to be dealing with what those dreams make him feel and even worse, if Bee even feels the same.


**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Transformers in any way, nor do I make any profit by writing this story. However, I do own the plot, but nothing else. All characters belong to Hasbro/Paramount. **

**Title: Wireless**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: Bam (BeexSam) **

**Summary: Since Mission City, Bumblebee has been tapping into Sam's dreams without knowing it. Now, a couple of months after the whole Matrix fiasco, Sam's in no condition to be dealing with what those dreams make him feel and even worse – if Bee even feels the same way. One-sided. Will eventually progress into two-sided. EVENTUALLY. **

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**Chapter One: Finding Out.**

Sam couldn't remember when he first started getting them, but he was getting them nonetheless -- and that was definitely something to fret over.

The dreams were strange to say in the least, already bordering past the bizarre and unorthodox, and it didn't help much to know that the dreams often frequented Sam's slumbers each and every night, each dream being stranger than the previous.

When did they seem to start?

Sam cracked one bleary eye open, scanning about the premise of his room in a clearly unnecessary gesture. It wasn't as if something was going to pop out and pounce on his vulnerable state, but it helped qualm the fear that was already starting to bubble deep within the very pit of his stomach like a foul, rancid broth.

"I should be used to this by now," he whispered to himself, slowly peeling open his other eyelid. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, extending his legs and wriggling his toes. Sitting up from his bed and bunching the blankets down to his ankles, he skimmed his eyes about the room one final time before withdrawing his feet from under the blankets and hurdling his legs over the edge of the mattress.

He hung his head and sighed as a hand came up to rub at the gunk that had formed between the corners of his eyes. It seemed that tonight's dream was especially alarming, even though the other ones prior were just as eerie and... uncomfortable to sleep through. It seemed that as each day passed, his dream scenarios got even stranger and stranger, and he was already starting to question his sanity. It was never a good thing when the topic of sanity came in to play, that much he knew and dreaded to realize.

'_Why the hell am I having dreams about my car?!'_ he shouted to himself, curling his fingers and digging his nails into the soft fabric of the bed sheets. How much more of this could he take?

Said dreams were almost always about his trusty yellow alien-robot/Camaro, Bumblebee, and if by some rare chance that they weren't, they were about other personal topics, none of which he cared to think over. Sam grit his teeth and let a small hiss escape his lips, mussing his fingers in his hair and trailing them down his face in a frustrated manner.

What was wrong with him? By all means, nothing strange ever happened in the dreams other than him hanging out with his fellow guardian or cruising down a fictional highway or something along the lines of that, but that's precisely what irked him so much. It's just now he was dreaming mostly about the car-alien-robot than the girl, which disturbed him so much sometimes that he tend to shiver just thinking about it.

Why was he having such a difficult time dreaming of something normal, like Mikaela for instance, or college, or countless many other things that he could list off with no problem?

By all means, Sam wasn't an idiot, and over the course of two and half years, he was able to piece together and determine an explanation for the unwelcome dreams. However, it was a theory to say in the least and not something that he could actually confirm with hard evidence. He could be wrong, but he wasn't that far from the marker.

The dreams had started only two months after the big battle in Mission City, where Sam had unknowingly saved the planet Earth by pushing the All Spark into a ferocious Decepticon's chest and furthermore destroyed said Decepticon and All Spark in one fell swoop. He hadn't really paid much attention to the dreams and never really questioned where they came from-- he hadn't cared to think of them since he was already too busy knowing he had a gang of alien-robots watching over him (one of them being his Camaro), and a super hot girlfriend for keeps.

And then, after a whole month of scattered dreams (never every day as they were now), they had suddenly stopped. After that month, he was dreaming of normal things that any teenage boy would dream of, like making out with Mikaela for instance, or making out with Mikaela while she was fixing up a car, which was really hot by the way because cars plus gorgeous women always equaled good times.

Not to say that he liked Mikaela just for her good looks and equally hot body. There were so many things with Mikaela that he liked, it was like she was an enticing little package all wrapped up in one pretty red bow. For one, she was fiercely loyal, which she pretty much proved when she first climbed into Bee's alt form with him on that day before the fiasco between the Autobots and Decepticons ravaged Earth. From there on, she had managed to prove herself as a worthy advisory, a loyal friend who would do anything and everything to stay by his side (which was even further proven by their attempted long-distance relationship and the whole Matrix deal in Egypt). Sam liked that, in fact, he more than liked it – he loved it. It was nice to know that he had someone dependable and trustworthy to rely on, a person that could not only be called friend, but girlfriend.

Who cared if Mikaela was starting to grow a little distant whenever they were on one of their rare dates, or how she was starting to slip up on their agreed web-chat dates more frequently as the days passed.

A quick thought passed through his head.

Sam frowned.

Unfortunately the dreams had kicked up with full force about five weeks after the whole Matrix deal, and when he got his first familiar taste of them after being without them for so long, he was not at all pleased.

Sam promptly got up, smacking his lips together as if some foul taste had lingered on his taste buds. He groggily walked over to his window and drew back the curtains, tapping the pads of his fingers against the glass of the window while he stared out at the silent night sky.

He didn't dare look down at the lawn, too afraid to see Bumblebee perched outside on the grass even though Sam knew he was parked in the garage. Hell, for all he knew, Bumblebee could have been taking unaccompanied joy rides while Sam slept at night-- he wouldn't have known, nor did he really want to know what Bumblebee did with himself in the wee hours of the night.

Sam quickly took a step back from the window, still wary and not daring taking any chances at being noticed by Bee, or anything else for that matter. He didn't even want the night sky to look at him. His skin was still crawling and his stomach felt all too hot from the most recent dream, and for some illogical reason he felt that he couldn't show himself to the world in fear of being terribly exposed.

He bit at his lip. He felt horribly wrong and all he wanted to do was go outside and hose himself down with the water hose. It sucked that the water hose happened to be located within the garage.

Sam drooped his shoulders and took a step towards the windowsill again, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the cool surface of the glass. When he opened his eyes, he nearly let out a loud shriek, before he remembered that both his parents were still sleeping and if he were to accidentally wake his mother, he would be in a shit-load of trouble.

Sam gaped down at Bumblebee, who was still in his alt form. Bee's headlights were notched up full-blast and a trail of grass and mud were trenched into Sam's father's lawn like incomplete train tracks. Sam mentally cursed and rapped quietly at the window with the balls of his knuckles, mouthing a long list of reprimands down to the stalled Camaro below.

With another dreary sigh, Sam smoothed over his mussed hair and quickly made to unlatch the window, sliding the windowpane up until it was safely opened and secured. Sam promptly stuck his head out and glared down at Bumblebee, who only revved his engine and chortled a delighted chirp at being acknowledged by his charge.

"Bee, what are you doing?!" Sam hissed down to the alien-car, his fingers curling at the edge of the windowsill and his fingernails gouging at the underside. "Dad's so gonna' kill me if he sees the lawn like this. Great, just great, thanks Bee."

"_Thank you, thank you very much,_" Bee replied cheekily using an audio byte of Elvis Presley's voice. Sam never really understood why Bee preferred speaking using clips and songs from the radio rather than using his own vocal processors, but he never really brought it up with Bee, because frankly Sam had no problem with Bumblebee using the radio to speak -- as long as Sam could understand him, everything was fine.

'_Scratch that,_' Sam thought somberly. '_Nothing's fine right now.'_

"Bee, go back inside the garage," Sam ordered, pointing a shaky finger down at Bee. This often worked with Mojo and Frankie, but with Bee, Sam wasn't so sure the command was as effective. As if replying, the alien only managed to rev its engine a couple of times and turn its wheels -- an indirect way of saying, "no."

"Bee, come on now, you gotta' go back inside," Sam explained while trying not to bite his lip out of frustration. "If Mom and Dad wake up right now and see you outside there like that, you know who's gonna' get the blame?"

"_Beats me,_" Bee replied using another audio clip, revving his engine once more.

"Wha -- ? You know very well who -- my ass is brass right now. Dude, just get back inside the garage, yeah? Please? Buddy?"

Much to Sam's chagrin, Bumblebee was being obnoxiously stubborn and wouldn't back down to Sam's pleas, revving his engine loud enough just to grate on Sam's nerves. Sam closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"Fine, fine, you win. Happy? I'll be down in a sec."

Leaving the window, Sam heard Bee give out another delightful chirp before hearing the soft squeak of Bee's tires backing out off the lawn. Sam hurriedly padded towards his closet and threw on a green flannel shirt and some faded jeans that he hardly wore let alone cared for. Grabbing his wallet and cell phone, and kicking on his black Chucks, he quickly trotted back to his open window and made to throw his legs over the sill, before he stopped dead in his movements and looked up at the looming metal face of Bumblebee, electric blue optics luminescent against the backdrop of the night skyline.

"Woah, scared me," Sam whispered up at him, managing to throw a mock glare before a small smirk played on his lips. He never seemed to stay mad at Bee for a very long time. He could hold grudges with other people, but never with Bee. It was a bit difficult considering Bumblebee was his Cybertronian guardian and all.

Bumblebee outstretched his rather large servo, mechanical gears whirring and clumps of hidden wires buzzing underneath the tons of metal alloy molded to the 'bots body. Sam always liked the sound of Bee's movements, for they always sounded so foreign to him. It was amazing that he could hear how Bee worked on the inside-- the soft lull of charging wires here, a gentle clink of metal shifting there. It was the fact that these sounds were so alien to him that made them even more pleasant to the ear, and Sam couldn't help but flash another sultry smirk up at his alien friend.

"Thanks, Bee," Sam said before jumping off the windowsill to Bee's outstretched hand. The soles of his shoes landed with a soft slap as they rooted themselves to the sleek and rather warm metal surface of Bee's palm.

With metallic arm outstretched and human securely rooted to the palm of his hand, Bumblebee cautiously turned around and knelt down, alloy kneecaps planting themselves to the Witwicky's backyard lawn. Losing a bit of his balance, Sam quickly grabbed hold of Bee's thumb and straightened himself as the alien-bot carefully lowered his hand and placed it to the ground, where a then teetering Sam withdrew from his bot's thumb and jumped off, slapping the soles of his shoes to the slippery grass.

Sam turned around and grinned up at his Autobot guardian, his smile deepening as he lay sole witness to one of the many transformations that Bee had undergone throughout the two and half years they had known each other. Each transformation was unique in itself; to Sam, it never seemed to grow old. His heart always seemed to pump faster and his amazement never ceased whenever Bee transformed from his alt form to his bipedal form and vice versa. Sam always thought that there'd never be a day when he'd grow bored or too accustomed to Bee's renderings -- his eyes were always transfixed to the malleable bits and pieces of metal plates aligning themselves while wires and thick cables rooted together seamlessly. And finally, when the transformation was all complete and there stood a 15-foot alien robot, Sam couldn't help but feel the usual dose of mystification he always felt when witnessing the entire process. However, this time it was vice versa and he was still equally thrilled of the end result, that being his 2010 Chevy Camaro.

As Bee finally hit the earth on all fours, spiffy rubber tires rocking back and forth as they steadily settled, the car locks swiftly popped up while the driver's side door hinged open. Sam smiled and trotted over to his guardian, smoothing his palm over the sleek exterior of Bee's hood while hearing the gentle purr of the engine underneath. The steady vibrations and unwavering rumbles of the hood tickled the palm of Sam's hand, the pads of his fingers receiving the same treatment.

Swinging himself inside the car and plopping down onto an already preheated leather seat, Sam frowned when the door abruptly slammed shut behind him and the seat belt immediately stretched across his chest until it buckled close with a sharp click. Knowing that Sam was now safe and secure, Bumblebee turned on his car radio and started fumbling for a suitable station, preferably one with no commercials and music suited to the feel of the night.

Still mumbling and frowning over the abrupt attack with Bee's seat belt, Sam deftly glared at the radio, biting the inside of his cheek as he waited for Bee to find a music station. The muted static in the background was strangely calming and unwinding, an odd feeling for a sound that was usually placed as an added spooky special effect in B-rated horror films.

"Is the radio station, _'Amp Radio'_ adequate for now?" Bumblebee asked through the radio, his voice scratchy.

"Uh, yeah sure, but if any of that rap-crap comes on make sure to trash it," Sam replied, a bit peeved. It seemed that the rap playing on the radio stations nowadays all sounded digitally synthesized, even the vocals, and to tell the truth, to Sam it sounded awful.

"Bee, how come you were out in the back yard?" Sam asked, once vigorous and lively pop music filtered through the car, the volume set to a low frequency.

"Your heart rate spiked considerably and your sleeping pattern seemed to be irregular," Bumblebee astutely replied, for once, using his own voice. "They have been like that for some time now, correct?"

Sam sunk into the warm leather of the driver's seat, his fingers fiddling with themselves over the fabric of his jeans. It was a rare occasion when Bumblebee actually used his real voice to speak instead of talking through the radio; in a strange way, Sam enjoyed it whenever he could hear the digitally synthesized notes and tones to Bee's vocal module (which of course sounded very, very alien), but he was fascinated by it anyway.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that?" Sam asked more than stated. He perked up and tensed his shoulders, cocking his head as realization dawned on him. "Have you been monitoring me from my room? Never knew you could do that. Kind of creepy, Bee."

"_Very superstitious..._" Bee spoke through the radio and revved his engine at Sam's brief puzzlement, his version of a chortled laugh while he slowly drove over the gravel driveway and onto the road. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back into the seat, running his fingers over the length of the seatbelt and tapping his other set of digits against the cool glass of the window.

"If you knew I was having trouble sleeping why didn't you say so before?" Sam asked quietly, folding his hands behind his neck.

"But I have. I have asked two times before how your sleep was fairing and you grew fairly nervous, I detected it on my scanning receptors," Bee stated casually. "I figured you would have told me on your own terms, but you have not."

There was a punctual silence that followed after, stilling the human who sat tensely within the alien Camaro. Sam would have done anything to break through the silence that had suddenly gotten rather a bit too awkward for his liking, and while trying to find up someway to intercede, he decided changing the subject would do rather nicely.

"Where are we going anyway?" Sam wondered aloud, briefly running his eyes over the gearshift before settling them on the radio when Bee started to rummage around for songs again. It seemed that changing the subject would do for now. "Don't take me too far. I don't want my parents waking up in the middle of the night to find out I'm gone. I'll be in a shit-load of trouble if they do. And you know how Mom's temper is when she's pissed."

"Understood," Bee's voice rang out over the radio, causing Sam to jump at the sudden sound. Sam immediately relaxed as Bumblebee tuned the radio to a station supplying music on a more calmer lever, indirectly trying to make up for the fact that he had scared his charge.

Sam peered out his Camaro's tinted windows, idly watching the scenery outside as Bee drove by house after house. He was already starting to busy himself by watching the lengths of various lawn bushes meld together into little green blurs, when Bee said,

"So, how have you been?"

Sam raised an eyebrow and puckered his lips, Bumblebee's synthesized voice permeating the cramped confines of the cab. "Sure are talkative tonight, are we?"

"But I always speak," Bumblebee stated.

"Yeah, through the radio," Sam finished, rolling his eyes.

"I can always refrain from using the radio if you prefer I speak directly," Bee offered.

Sam bit his lip as a guilty flush welled across his cheeks. Now he felt horribly guilt-ridden at his earlier comment. Sure, Bumblebee was his guardian and very good friend, but it didn't mean that he could start bossing him around like some alien slave. What kind of person would he be if he had gone and done that? Whenever he was around the Autobots, Sam would always try his best to be as trustworthy and venerable in their presence. Since they were a highly intelligent alien race that were taller than the average house, he had always strived to be as just and morally-bound as he possibly could towards them so they would know he wasn't like every other decrepit human being out there, because truthfully, there were indeed some humans wicked enough to harbor devices bent on ravishing nothing but hate and malice towards others. Sam wanted to be that one human who could live up to the Autobot's standards, to be that one caring and justified friend and ally who wouldn't turn his back so easily – he had learned from his mistakes last time when he so carelessly dismissed their need of aid..

With an interminable silence puncturing the atmosphere, Bumblebee revved his engine once more and succeeded in getting Sam to snap out of his little reverie.

"Something wrong, Sam?" Bumblebee asked quietly, patiently waiting for Sam to answer. Sam merely shook his head and muttered a quick,

"No, nothing's wrong."

* * *

"Why am I not surprised?" Sam asked playfully, tapping his knuckles against Bee's window.

Bumblebee had driven directly to the hilly lookout overlooking the night sky, green grass sitting humbly below and swaying trees speckling the earth in dense clumps and clusters. It was in this very lookout where Bee and Sam spent most of their alone time together, to either just talk about nothing in particular or lay down in the grass in silence. However something seemed off about the place, as if everything were still. Sam stared out the front windshield, squinting his eyes as he spotted unknown tire tracks implanted in the earth ahead.

As Bumblebee slowly drove along the grassy pathway towards the top of the overlook, Sam squinted again, his heart rate speeding up dramatically when he came across the unfamiliar outline of another vehicle parked up ahead.

And they were parked in Bee and Sam's usual spot as well.

"Did someone beat us here or something?" Sam whispered, placing the palm of his hand at the top of the leather steering wheel. Suddenly, Bumblebee stopped himself, tires sticking to the grass like suction cups. He then proceeded to turn down his headlights, the lights inside also dimming down until Sam was bathed in nothing but darkness, save for the light of the moon beaming in through the windows. Sam shifted his eyes to Bee's radio where the many lights encased under button switches flickered off as well.

"What? Bee, why'd we stop?" Sam asked quickly, his brow furrowing in confusion. His heart was already palpitating at an unearthly pace, his insides turning to mush. Maybe he was just paranoid, but something about the whole situation unnerved him.

A couple of drawn out seconds passed between the two of them, neither Autobot nor human letting out a chirp or question. Sam licked his lips, a flint of anger thrown into the mix of anxiety and fright that were his emotions.

"Bee, answer me! You're freaking me out!" Sam hissed warningly, prodding his finger at Bee's radio.

"Sam."

Sam withdrew his hand quickly, unfamiliar to the stern tone issuing through Bumblebee's vocals. He had never really heard Bee use that tone with him before and Sam found that he really didn't like it -- at all.

"Perhaps we should leave," Bee suggested quietly. Sam raised an eyebrow and stared out through the front of the windshield again, biting his lip as he desperately tried to make out the figure of the vehicle up ahead. And wait, were those human outlines in the distance as well?

"Why? We just got here," Sam asked aloud. He leaned forward until his chest was pressing against the Autobot insignia in the center of the steering wheel. He put a hand to his head and peered out once more. "It's not like their gonna' make us leave. We can just park a little ways away from them. No big deal, right?"

Bee didn't answer him, instead, he let out a minuscule whine with his engine.

Now something was definitely up.

"What's up there?" Sam asked quietly, stiffening his back as he sat rigidly upright in his seat.

Again, Bee did not respond.

"Is it a Decepticon?" Sam asked again, a speck of strain issuing through his voice. Bee's on and off responses were starting to frighten him, and Sam didn't like the fact that it was Bumblebee who was doing it to him.

"Let us go Sam, we can return here in the morning if you wish," Bee replied after a couple of seconds of silence. Sam sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, his brow furrowing as he immediately shot his eyes towards Bee's radio receiver.

"We're not leaving this place until you tell me what's going on," Sam countered coolly, a steely edge to his voice. He heard Bumblebee let out a static-like groan, the lights surrounding the radio briefly flaring for a second or two until they dimmed out.

And then, the doors locked.

Sam jerked upright in his chair and slapped his hand to the door handle, trying to jerk it open. But alas, it was stuck good and hard. He kept trying to jerk it open until his hands came away red and lined.

"Bee, open up the doors, come on," Sam urged, trying a hand at the door handle again. "Why are you doing this?"

"It is not something you should see, Sam," Bee responded flatly. Sam let out a deafening groan and slammed his back into the leather seat, slapping the back of his hand to his forehead. He was starting to get royally pissed at Bee's suspicious behavior and let's just say his patience was running extremely thin at the moment.

"Will you just let me out?" Sam exclaimed, shooting a glare at Bee's radio.

"No," Bee replied.

Sam inwardly moaned and placed his hands on the steering wheel, gripping it rather desperately as a mild pang of anger grilled through his veins.

"I saw people up ahead," Sam began, course ire speckled thickly on his tongue. "Is that why you won't let me go?"

Bee didn't reply, and Sam took it as an indirect confirmation.

"Do I know these people?" Sam continued, raising an eyebrow. His interest was starting to pique and like hell would he let Bumblebee get away with his raunchy behavior.

"Well?" Sam pushed, leaning forward in his seat until his chest nearly touched the Autobot crest in the center of the steering wheel.

"_One is the loneliest number, worse than two_," Bee sang through the radio. The Autobot obviously didn't want to confirm anything by actually speaking it aloud and instead used the radio to convey his answer. Sam nodded his head deftly, a mess of thoughts tumbling about in his mind like numerous dried tumbleweeds. His fingers were itching with anticipation, his thoughts wracking away at any possible conclusion. He didn't know a lot of people, aside from Leo, Miles, Mikaela and his parents, not including Lennox and Epps who he rarely even got in contact with, inside and outside of military affairs.

"Girl or guy?" Sam barked out, straining his eyes towards the outline of the car parked ahead of them. He could barely see them, but he could faintly make out the two figures he had a caught a glimpse of earlier, however he could only make out their outlines.

Bee didn't answer Sam this time, which confused him greatly. Why would Bee need to keep that information from him anyway? It wasn't like Sam was going to go stark-raving mad at Miles for making out with some girl on the overlook, in fact, he would be extremely happy for his quirky friend to have found someone who had accepted all his oddities. And with Leo it happened to be the same thing.

Unless, it was a girl.

Unless, it was a girl that he knew.

Unless, it was...

And then a torrent of thoughts, flashbacks, and sudden realizations zapped through his mind like bolts of lightning, frying his nerves and sending his heart on a marathon of rapid beats. Scenario after scenario replayed through his head like black and white strips of film, repeating in chronological accordance to his thoughts.

Why hadn't he questioned her when she would suddenly cancel long awaited date plans on him, or spend more time at the shop than hanging out together? Why hadn't he noticed the way she would space out and ignore him when they were together, or how her interest in him was a little more platonic than romantically involved?

When had Mikaela gone from being his girlfriend, to just his friend?

Sam cradled his hands into his lap, his eyes staring at the steering wheel instead of their place at the top of the overlook. He didn't feel as curious as he had been to the occupants at the top of the hill anymore, just thinking about it almost made the back of his eyes well with tears – almost.

Even with his numerous monitors, receptors, scans, and sensors, Bumblebee didn't have to use any of them to know that Sam had already pieced together the numerous fringed pieces of this tragic puzzle. From the way the boy's shoulders hunched with agony, to the lost edge and sparkle in his brown orbs, Bee could tell that his human charge was inwardly grieving.

"Let me out Bee," Sam whispered. Bumblebee needn't be told twice.

The Autobot let out a tangible moan as he swiftly unlocked his doors, hinging them open gently to allow his human exit. Sam remained in his seat for a matter of seconds before throwing his legs out the car while he fumbled for balance as he exited, the car door shutting softly behind him. His fingers deftly traced the sleek, yellow edge of Bee's hood, feeling the alien give out a rumbling purr of support before Sam withdrew his fingers and gauntly trudged his way towards the top of the overlook.

Sam couldn't think of anything as he climbed the slope to the lookout, the soles of his shoes scuffing against the dampness of the grass beneath him. He didn't know how he was going to react, or what he was going to say when he came face to face with whatever she was doing on the top of a hill well past midnight, or whom she was doing it with.

'_Let's not come to conclusions here_,' Sam told himself, his destination growing ever so near. '_Maybe she's with a female friend? Maybe that other person with her is a girl. Yeah, a girl._'

Sam hoped it was a girl.

Sam was almost there, the outline of the car up ahead merging into something he could see more clearly. It was a car he had never seen before, an outdated red Volvo that really didn't quite catch his interest, unlike the two beings he found sprawled out on the floor in nothing but blankets and their obvious nakedness. Sam widened his eyes in stupefaction, taking a step back as his heart nearly plummeted to the very pits of his stomach, leaving him feeling queasy and emotionally torn.

"Sam?!"

Mikaela quickly covered her exposed breasts with a nearby comforter, quickly brushing the tangled hair out of her face as she managed to sit up on her elbows. Her male partner quickly jumped to the side, shielding his lower extremities with a thin blanket. He looked embarrassed enough, what with his face turning a deep shade of crimson, but he tried to feign it by looking towards some other direction.

"Sam, what are you doing here?!" Mikaela shrieked, her glossy lips swollen and plump. Sam merely stood there with his hands dropped to his sides, his eyes glazing over in confusion as he thought about her question. Once he had enough time to process it, a residual burning sensation coursed from his toes all the way up to his neck, making his fingers twitch and writhe in anger as he balled his digits into a tight-formed fist.

"I should be asking you that!!" he screamed back at her, the anger pent up within him exploding like a geyser. "I-I...I don't even know what to say right now Mikaela!!" He watched as Mikaela's sweaty face flushed crimson, her brow furrowing in protest.

"Were you stalking me or something?!" she yelled, bunching her fingers in the blankets wrapped around her form.

"I don't need to explain anything to you right now!" Sam hollered, a heated glare noticeable in his eyes. His brow was furrowed and his lips were trembling, his nostrils flaring with the confusion and hurt that was spiraling through him like the havoc of a tornado. "I thought -- why would you..."

Seeing the tormented expression on Sam's face, Mikaela's demeanor softened, however her eyes didn't lose that twinge of embarrassment. "I-I...I'm sorry Sam. I just...I don't know, I --."

Sam didn't get to hear her, for he had quickly turned around and started sprinting towards the overlook's base, where Bumblebee laid waiting, headlights flashing for a few seconds before they dimmed down. Sam was flying down the hill, the soles of his shoes padding dangerously against the slippery grass, causing him to stumble and lose the last shred of balance that he had. However, before he hit the ground in what would have been a sickening thud, he had instead landed against the sleek metallic surface of Bumblebee's hood, it's warmth permeating his skin and leaving a tingling sensation coursing through his veins.

Without looking back, Sam quickly caught hold of the door that was conveniently already opened for him. He roughly scrambled inside, slamming his back against the warmed leather seats, the door shutting close behind him with an audible click of its locks.

There was no sound. No breathing, no chirping -- no sound at all. Sam could only stare at the revolving disco ball hanging off Bumblebee's rear-view mirror, its mirrored scales splashing off colors of rainbow light as it flitted across the expanse of the car. With a frown, a tear slipped from one eye and traveled steadily down his cheek before he quickly brought up his hand and wiped the offending liquid away.

"Bee, did that just happen?" Sam asked shakily, not daring to look up.

"_I could say it ain't so, but darling, what's the use?_" Bee sang through the radio for a brief moment, before cutting the radio off.

Sam nodded.

* * *

**A/N:** **Songs and clips used in this chapter are as follows:**

"_**One**_**" by Three Dog Night**

"_**Run and Tell That**_**" by Seaweed (Hairspray)**

**Elvis Presley speech clip.**

**Review please! **


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